Support
by lalalei
Summary: Tristan Taylor was always good at noticing things. Weeks after the Pharaoh's departure, he noticed a friend in need of support. Post-series.


It had been weeks since the Pharaoh had returned to the afterlife. The adventures as they knew them had ceased to be, but that didn't make life any easier for Yugi or his friends.

Tristan Taylor dealt with things by noticing when others needed help, and helping when he could. And he noticed more than he liked to admit.

Everyone, he saw, was coping differently with the loss. Tea was throwing herself into her schoolwork and dancing, Yugi busied himself with games and dueling, and Joey coped by staying as close to Yugi as possible, afraid to let his friends leave his side. Tristan didn't know what Seto Kaiba was up to, but somehow he figured the CEO didn't have as much to grieve as they did—at most, he'd mourn the loss of a rival and move on.

It was on this day, just after school let out, that Tristan realized he had no idea how Ryou Bakura was coping. The thought worried him. He'd seen Ryou most of the time, as they shared the same classes, but the boy had kept to himself. At the time he'd been content to give him space, and he'd had his other friends to look after.

But it had been weeks, _weeks_, since then, and all they'd exchanged were occasional greetings in the hallways or help with homework. There had to be more to what was going on. Ryou had barely known the Pharaoh, to his knowledge, and even his adventures with Yugi were infrequent. What could have affected him so deeply?

Tristan then realized that Ryou might not just be getting over losing the Pharaoh. There was _another_ spirit that had been laid to rest that evening—and it was one Ryou knew very well. Evil or no, Yami Bakura's absence would definitely be felt, especially by the one who'd been his host.

Well, if Ryou wouldn't reach out to him, he would. That was what friends did.

Hours later, Tristan and Ryou sat on a roof watching the sky. It had been more awkward than he thought to ask him to come here, but once he had the conversation flowed naturally until Ryou seemed calm enough for Tristan to ask what he had come here to ask.

"Hey Ryou. How are you holding up since… you know. The duel."

Ryou blinked once and answered much too quickly for Tristan's liking. "I'm fine."

A frown. "You sure?"

Again, the white-haired boy's words were too fast. "Positive, Tristan. Absolutely fine."

Tristan sighed and faced him squarely. "You miss him, don't you, Ryou?"

Ryou gave him a half-smile, never quite meeting his eyes. "Of course I do. I think _everyone_ that knew him misses the Pharaoh, Tristan."

Now or never, Tristan thought. He took a deep breath.

"That's…not exactly it. I know you miss the Pharaoh, but… I meant the _other_ one. Yami Bakura."

Ryou physically winced at the name. "I…well…"

After what seemed an eternity, he lowered his head and nodded.

"Yes. I do miss him. But it—it's not romantic, or friendly, or…anything positive, really. He was nothing but cruel and callous. I lost months, possibly _years_, of my life to him; I even lost my name to the man. He cared for no one but himself and his own selfish desires, yet…"

Ryou laughed quietly. "Even after all he'd done to us, I miss him all the same."

He straightened and fixed Tristan with a pleading, desperate gaze. His tone was slightly manic. "Is that _normal_, Tristan? Am I going _mad_ without the constant whispers in my ear, the lack of sudden memory lapses? Why do I keep _seeing_ him in my dreams, in my mind?"

Tristan pondered the question slowly, methodically. When he finally spoke, it made Ryou jump.

"I think I have an idea. You miss the Spirit not because of what he did to us, but because of what his presence _meant_ for us."

Ryou stared. "What do you mean?"

Tristan put an arm on his friend's shoulder to reassure him. "He was evil, no doubt about it. But you were good. You were helping save the world, buddy. You saved _us_, too! If it weren't for you and that Change of Heart card—not to mention that stunt you pulled with those fumbled die rolls—_none_ of us would be here today, and the world would have burned with us."

Truth be told, Ryou Bakura hadn't felt himself to be _that_ important. Tristan continued, his voice low and heavy.

It felt that he was speaking from personal experience now, not just hypothetical situations.

"But now the adventures are gone, and the spirit's gone, and we're back to a world we're unsure how to live in. No one else knows of what we've done, and no one else would believe us if we told them. It's just us now. Nothing left to fight. No more saving the world from ancient evils."

Tristan paused.

"I think you miss him because you miss the _fight_, Ryou. You miss something to go against, to attack, because it meant that you were doing something important."

Ryou finished for him. He had begun to cry. "And now that the fight's over," he said slowly, "I'm not sure who or what I am without him."

He grabbed the lapels of Tristan's coat, hot tears spilling down his face. "Tristan, who _am_ I? Who is Ryou Bakura to you? Do _any_ of you know me at all, or did you just know someone who was pretending to be me?"

Shaking, Ryou let go of Tristan and hugged himself.

"Could you tell the difference between us? At all?"

Tristan stood up and offered his friend a hand. "Well, let's see. You're much nicer than he was, for one. I don't think you have a selfish bone in your body, Ryou, and if you do, well, that's news to me. You're the kind of guy who I can't even see stealing a candy bar—now _Joey_, on the other hand…"

Ryou laughed in spite of everything.

"Not to mention a better dresser, better friend, and all-around awesome guy that, honestly, I'd like to get to know better. And I bet Yugi and the others feel the same!" Tristan went on.

"But what do you know about me as a _person_," Ryou persisted.

Tristan winked. "You're a much better Dungeon Master than Yami Bakura was, that's for sure—and your traps are _way_ scarier than anything he could come up with. So cheer up! We're all your friends, and if there's anything you want, just ask!"

Ryou smiled, blinked and quickly stood up. "Ah! T-that reminds me. I was wondering if Yugi, Joey, Tea, and you would like to join me for a roleplaying game sometime next week. I…I've been planning it in my head for about a week now, but I didn't want to intrude on you all. You seemed so busy!"

"Ryou, we're _never_ too busy to be with friends. I'll let Yugi know as soon as possible! But, uh… could you tone down the traps in the Realm of Shadows?"

"Just for that, I'll add more," Ryou laughed. The two friends parted in good spirits.

Tristan was happy he had helped Ryou out. It was what friends did, and hopefully the white-haired boy would remember that they were always there for him if he needed them.

He could finally roleplay without danger, Ryou realized. Figurines were just that—lumps of wood and lead in the shape of his closest friends.

He smiled. He could conquer anything, as long as he had friends.


End file.
